


Forged in Fire

by Raving-Ravenclaw (MNXombi)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Child Abuse, Discord Roleplay Server, Explicit cause swearing and violence, Harry Potter OC'S - Freeform, I suck at writing in accented english, Im sorry to anyone from the UK who becomes offended by my attempt at an accent speech pattern, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), POSSIBLY OFFENSIVE VERNACULAR, Present Time HP, im bad at tagging sorry, trigger warning, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 12:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17528828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MNXombi/pseuds/Raving-Ravenclaw
Summary: An unfinished thing with my own HP OCs set in an alternate present timeline. All the characters within are mine and have been based off of a Harry Potter RP discord server that I created and currently own. ((HINT HINT TO ANYONE WHO WANTS TO RP HARRY POTTER STUFFS WITH ME <33 )).--“Oliver?” He called, his voice thick and high-pitched in his fright. Kelvin continued to call his name, a medical professional in all white appearing from behind the curtain, confirming that he was inside a hospital. They ignored Kelvin’s weak questioning about Oliver, instead fiddling with the machinery that was next to his bed until sleep suddenly overcame him. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, a droning, continuous sound of a flat, high-pitched noise was the last thing he heard before darkness reclaimed him.





	Forged in Fire

“Oliver, stop it!”

“I’m not touching you.”

“Oliver, I MEAN IT! Leave me alone!” Kelvin’s tone, although at the top of his volume, was full of mirth. His small eyebrows were furrowed as he ran away from his older brother, but his mouth was trying its very best to not burst into the smile that threatened to break through his purposeful resolve.

“Kelvin, Ol’ver, stop muckin’ ‘round n’git yer arses in ‘ere n’wash!” The two boys, 13 and 6, stopped chasing each other around the yard and hustled inside before their father reprimanded them again.

Traces of the smiles were still keen on their bright young faces while they washed their hands. Kelvin, seeing an opportunity, flicked some of the hot, soapy water at Oliver, who flinched momentarily before retaliating full force. Their fits of laughter floated down into the kitchen where the seven other family members of their household were already digging into their supper. Kelvin and Oliver joined the table that nearly encompassed the whole space of the kitchen, plopping mounds of mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables on their plates and eating merrily with their comparatively quieter family members.

After dinner, most of the family headed back outside to work, wanting to use up all remaining hours of sunlight the farming family had left. Summertime meant very hard work, although Kelvin felt the pull of wanting to run around and have some summertime fun. Kelvin and Oliver were the last to finish their plates, all food completely vanished from the table, and their mother looked at the serving bowls and the pots and pans from preparation for their meal.

“Roll yer sleeves up, you two’ll be washin’ and dryin’ dishes with me.” Her sweet voice said, and she threw a strand of dark hair behind one of her reddened ears.

“I dun wanna.” Kelvin protested near the door, as he was just about to leave the kitchen and head back outside with the rest of his family.

“Quit yer chunterin’ n’git to helpin’, aye? ‘Wise this’ll take all night.” Mother protested back, her eyebrows twitching in a dangerous way. She had already started to fill the sink with hot water, pointedly picking up a wash rag and tossing it over to Kelvin, who in his fuss, let it fall onto the dusty floor.

“I don’t want to wash dishes.” Kelvin said, emphasizing his speech aggressively. He crossed his arms over his small chest and furrowed his eyebrows as hard as he could, scrunching up his small face.

“Get on with it…” Oliver spoke softly, leaning down to pick the towel up off the floor and thwacking it a few times before joining his mother at the sink.

“No, I’m not gunna. I wanna go back outside.”

“Well that’s just too damn bad, innit?” Oliver turned around at the sudden voice of his father, turning just in time to see Kelvin jump high into the air with the surprise of his appearance.

“Listen to yer mum, aye? Else you deal with me.” He said threateningly, walking past him roughly and disappearing into the house, which he often did while they were working. Kelvin sighed, seeming to be fighting between causing a fuss and not wanting to be handled by his father, knowing that each time he disappeared into the house he would nip a drink of gin or home crafted beer until work officially ended. Defeatedly, he walked over to the sink with slumped shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I can wash.” Oliver said comfortingly, although the look that his mother threw him told Kelvin that Oliver babying him may not have been the best decision.

The kitchen took a long time to clean up, however when Kelvin and Oliver were finished, they both noticed that the sky still had a sliver of light left, the east dark enough for spots of stars to start appearing.

“Hey mum?” Kelvin broached, being much braver than Oliver despite being 7 years younger.

“Go outside and see what yer father has fer you t’do.” She said in a slightly defeated tone.

They burst through the door and ran back outside, completely ignoring what their mother had to say and continued to play tag has they had been doing before. Kelvin was just about to reach Oliver when their father’s yelling, belligerent voice carried out toward them, telling them both off for not listening to their mother. He was growing closer, his face reddened with the long day, his drink, and his sudden risen anger. Instinctively, Oliver stepped a little in front of Kelvin, who immediately shirked away from father’s yelling.

“Oh, you damned boy, you damned softie. Washin’ the dishes fer ‘im, ignorin’ yer mum? He’s gunna ‘ave to learn the ways sooner r’later, and you ain’t doing ‘im no favours.” Father said as he drew nearer, apparently angrier at Oliver for being old enough to know better. As soon as father was within range, they both could smell the ale on his breath.

“Get outta the way, you damned lump, you good fer nothin’.” Father said, grabbing Oliver’s arm and forcefully swinging him away from Kelvin who was now cowering away from the larger man.

“Don’t!” Oliver said as father wrapped his fists in Kelvin’s small shirt, hoisting him far off the ground with ease.

“What did I say in the ‘ouse, boy? Aye? You listen to yer mum when she tells ye summ’in.” Father said, shaking the boy in his rage. Oliver, although used to his behaviour, instinctively started to pull on his father’s arm.

“You’ll hurt him!” Oliver protested, receiving an elbow to the face as a reward. Oliver fell back from the force of it, immediately feeling and tasting blood as his nose started to leak. He reached up with shaking hands and wiped at the blood, more immediately pouring back out and down his face. His legs seemed to hoist himself off the ground, and reaching out with his bloodied hand, wrapped an arm around the dangling body of his younger brother, trying to pull him out of his father’s grip.

“Leave ‘im alone, he didn’t mean nothin’! He didn’t mean no ‘arm!” Oliver retorted in a pleading voice, pulling down at Kelvin’s legs.

“Fuck off.” Father yelled, kicking at Oliver with his long legs. Oliver tried his best to dodge some of the kicks, glad that father ended up tripping over himself and consequently letting Kelvin go in his fall.

“Run back to the ‘ouse, quick.” Oliver said, but father was already rising, his fists tight. Seeing his father purple in the face and raising his fists above Oliver, Kelvin threw himself across Oliver’s middle and took a few punches in the back, toppling down on top of his older brother with the force of his father.

Although his back was stinging with father’s blows, anger rose in Kelvin’s stomach then, mixing with the fear of his drunken father. Kelvin, expecting another blow, turned himself around in time to catch one of his father’s flying fists. As his little hands connected with his father’s, a fire sparked suddenly between them, flame shooting from Kelvin’s left hand and wrapping around his father’s calloused one.

“What the fuck?!” Father yelled, immediately withdrawing and yelling incoherently as he started to stamp the fire out that had spontaneously started between the two with his shirt, his skin already reddening and blistering from the flame. Kelvin’s eyes were wide with fright at the flames, confused where they had come from. In the cacophony of confusion, anger, and fear, the flame came back, wrapping up and around Kelvin’s small left arm this time without burning him. Kelvin tried to separate himself from Oliver who was still underneath him, but the flame flashed brightly, suddenly spreading up to his shoulder and across his chest, consequently attaching itself to Oliver’s clothing behind him.

Kelvin became aware of his brother’s screaming, turning to see that his shirt had caught on fire. Kelvin tried to snuff the flame out, patting at it desperately with his hands, but his body was still lit with the fire, steadily growing hotter and hotter on his skin the whole time. Kelvin heard many pairs of feet running toward them in the distance over the crying of his older brother, aware that people were yelling at them in confusion.

“Help him, help him, help him!” Kelvin yelled over and over, now desperately scraping up the hardened earth beneath them and trying to rub dirt across his brother’s torso to cease the flames like he had been taught. He did this until the burning became so bad against his skin, the momentary ineffectiveness snuffing out and searing him. Jolting back and screaming with his brother, he started to roll onto the ground, desperate to cease the magical flames. Suddenly, he was assaulted with a barrage of blankets and rugs, various family members patting the fire out on him and his brother’s bodies.

“’e set me on fire, ‘e bloody set me on fire!” Kelvin heard over the discord, pain now engulfing the entire left side of his body. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t do anything, and the pain eventually became so severe that everything went black.

Kelvin woke in a strange room, sedated and feeling as if the room around him was moving although everything appeared to be still. Through the muddle, he was aware of commotion happening beside him. He dared to turn his head, it feeling significantly heavier than normal. Although his vision was a little blurry, Kelvin saw a thick curtain with shadows moving on the floor, the flickering of the shadows reminding him painfully of the strange fire that had started between him and his father while he was trying to defend his older brother, as Oliver had tried to defend him. The recollection of the fire sparked the memory of Oliver screaming on the ground, and instantly Kelvin wanted to know where his brother was.

“Oliver?” He called, his voice thick and high-pitched in his fright. Kelvin continued to call his name, a medical professional in all white appearing from behind the curtain, confirming that he was inside a hospital. They ignored Kelvin’s weak questioning about Oliver, instead fiddling with the machinery that was next to his bed until sleep suddenly overcame him. As he slipped back into unconsciousness, a droning, continuous sound of a flat, high-pitched noise was the last thing he heard before darkness reclaimed him.

The next time he woke, the room was quiet and very bright, the only sounds he heard were the random stirrings of the equipment next to his bed and small noises coming from outside his door. No one appeared to be in the room, and when Kelvin turned his head back toward the curtain, it was drawn back and the bed beyond was empty. He wasn’t alone for long, as a nurse came in, saw he was awake, and left the room again before Kelvin could even open his mouth to ask where his family was.

The next time he was visited, it was by the nurse who had left, a doctor, another gentleman who was dressed rather formally with a suitcase in his hand, and his mother.

“Where is my brother?” Kelvin asked his mother, his voice a little hoarse from disuse.

The looks on all of their faces, the way they exchanged sour, hesitant glances with each other before everyone but his mother left the room again gave Kelvin all the answers he needed. Promptly, he started to cry.

“He… _He didn’t make it._ ” Mother whispered gravely, sitting on the end of Kelvin’s hospital bed and crying deeply into her hands.

===

Kelvin woke with a gasp, his body soaked with sweat and the left side of his body tingling with the recollecting dream. Panting, it took Kelvin a moment of him being suspended and reemerged in his tragedy to realize that he was at Hogwarts in his common room, the expanse of the 4th year Hufflepuff dormitory completely empty besides him as he had been the only Hufflepuff sorted that year. It was moments like this that he was glad to be alone, not wanting to deal with the questioning of other students about his nightmare and whether he was okay.

How could he tell anyone how he’d never be okay because he killed his older brother? How could he ever be okay knowing that his parents and most of his immediate family still blamed him for his death, forever putting them at odds with him not only because of the accidental murder, but because of the _magic_ that had caused it? Even worse still was the choice to accept Hogwarts’ invitation into the magical world, consequently embracing the mysterious power that killed his brother, his schooling and the people around him a daily reminder of what he could possibly do to others if he wasn’t so afraid of magic.


End file.
